


Holding Poses

by misha_anon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Yoga, Hand Jobs, Incest (obviously), M/M, PWP, Rutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam introduces Dean to yoga; Dean has mixed feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Poses

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a tumblr ask meme. The theme was "cat", the pairing was "Dean/Sam", and my imagination ran away with the prompt.

Dean has never felt more ridiculous than he does at this moment on his hands and knees on a big blue mat, but his pride won't allow him to give in to it.  
  
"Arch your back more," Sam says, his long fingers curling easily around Dean's ribcage and sliding down to his waist. "Remember how I showed you?"  
  
Dean sucks a hard breath and drops his head, trying to ignore the warmth of his brother's hands on his bare skin.  In the process he forgets to arch his back at all, dropping into more the nonexistent swayback-old-nag pose than anything resembling the cat pose. Sam's palms press harder; Dean opts for deflection in the form of a grumbled, "I'm fuckin' tryin' here, Sammy.  Gimme a break."  
  
Sam's hands slide under Dean and his fingers tighten, eight points of pressure on the softness of Dean's belly, pulling gently upward.  Dean bites his lips together to stop the almost-groan.  Sam's fingers coax Dean's spine upward, pressing into soft flesh and releasing rhythmically until the uncomfortable prickle of sweat breaks out down Dean's spine.  
  
When Sam leans down closer, the heat of his breath on Dean's skin is excruciating, sending the idea of doing as Sam has instructed out the window.  Dean rounds his back well past the cat pose and into the I'm-a-goddamned-camel-okay pose; his reward is the press of Sam's sweaty chest to his skin.   
  
Dean decides that maybe yoga isn't the worst idea Sam has ever had; Sam chuckles like he's mind reader.  
  
"Relax, Dean," he murmurs, his lips brushing against the back of Dean's neck.  The only problem with the instruction is that it's real fucking difficult to relax when your cock is aching hard and pressed uncomfortably against your stomach by your shorts.   
  
He considers telling Sam as much, but he doesn't get the words out before one of Sam's hands is sliding down his stomach, leading Dean to conclude that yoga was a good idea and Sam's probably psychic - but not the creepy "I see dead people" kind.  He's finally able to relax a little, his back rounded nicely and probably close to the cat position until Sam's fingertip rubs a teasing circle around his leaking slit.  
  
Dean growls, muscles beginning to ache from the unaccustomed strain of trying to hold his Noah's ark full of poses; a condition he suddenly forgets when Sam's fingers close around his cock and start to stroke.  He will never tire of how small he can feel when his brother kneels behind him and curls over the top of his back to get more comfortable and before he knows it, he's struggling to catch a deep breath.  
  
Sam's body molds to Dean's and he nips sharply at the back of Dean's neck, one splayed palm still pressed to his stomach to hold his back in an arched position - all the better to keep him from thrusting his hips.  Dean moans, dropping his chin to his chest as his stomach muscles start to burn from the enforced position; Sam strokes his cock with a twisting fist, quicker and quicker before slowing once more.  
  
Dean hates yoga and Sam's nothing but a tease.  
  
" _Sam_ ," He finally croaks hoarsely as Sam's fingertips dig into his stomach.  Sam's fist moves in quick strokes again as Dean's muscles pull tight with fatigue, his body trembling from exertion.  It isn't until Sam starts to roll his hips to grind against Dean's ass, lips closing on the side of Dean's neck, soft little grunts of pleasure filling his ears that Dean is able to let himself go.  
  
With a final huffed breath and a strangled groan, the warmth of orgasm and the release of too-long-tensed muscles flows through Dean, taking his breath away and making his head spin.  Sam's fingers slow, cupping the head of his cock and twisting slowly, pulling him right over the edge as his cock jerks in the grip, come splashing up his belly and soaking his underwear.  
  
Sam nearly knocks them both to the floor, his hips jerking erratically as his grunts turn to half-formed words and he dusts feverish kisses across the back of Dean's neck and his shoulder.  Dean knows the instant Sam comes, his body spasming and his breath catching in his throat; Sam's nails scrape across Dean's already sore stomach just before he drops both hands to the floor to brace himself.  
  
Dean feels the telltale wet heat of come soaking through their shorts as his brother pants against the side of his neck.  Finally able to move, Dean drops gingerly into the straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back position and groans with the relief it brings.  Sam chuckles softly and presses his lips to Dean's shoulder; Dean decides yoga is the best idea Sam has ever had.


End file.
